The End of Forever After
by midnights shadow
Summary: When a battle happens, there are bound to be others that are drawn there...


Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. I only come to this world to play and appreciate the folks who let me do this.

There was a lull in the battle. For a brief moment Angel stood alone as the twisted shapes of the demons sought their prey elsewhere. Illyria was surrounded, or he supposed that it was her that had tossed the two demons squirting fluids over the heads of their companions. Gunn was still holding his own, the ten minute count almost run out, but not yet up. Spike chortled with glee just beyond the dumpster, a twirling storm of pain for the demons.

Overhead in the sky, a few stars shone wanly through the city light. Marveling that he would notice this at this moment, Angel gazed upward with a profound sense of awe until with a crash and flash of pain, he was drawn once again into the battle.

As he again began to pummel the new wave of demons, he caught a glimpse of Gunn going down face forward into the pavement. In his hyper state, his mind gibbered uselessly, one down, three to go. And still he fought on.

Above, on the rooftops unseen by the combatants or any other inhabitant of the city, forms gathered. A few of the tall beings looking down on the fight hoped that the four, now three, champions could last until the host had been gathered. It would be a close thing.

At last, word was given that enough had come. In truth, it had only be a few minutes on the human plane of existence, but in that short time, the blond one had lost his footing and was disappearing under a wave of the deformed creatures.

Loud and clear, a horn blew into the night, the sound galvanizing the forms on the surrounding roofs. Many leaped down from on high into the fray, swinging swords like scythes through the waving bodies of the demons, like so much wheat to be harvested. Others took a more circumspect route to come up behind the demon hoard, thereby cutting of the supply line of new demon bodies to be used as fodder for the champions.

The remaining three beings on the roof walked the perimeter of the building, studying the streets below. They searched for their counterparts, the three who dared to corrupt what was rightfully theirs.

Coming back to the starting point, the fairest of the three pointed to a shadow on the other side of the alley. There, huddled under a fire escape stood the three they had been searching for. They were true nightmares, deformed and twisted as if the corruption on the inside had to somehow manifest on their outward appearance. They were the face of all things seen in nightmares, and had the searchers been human, would have sent them scrabbling backwards to escape their notice. Instead the three leaped to the other building and rushed down the fire escape.

The nightmare demons didn't notice the descent of the three warriors until they were almost upon them, and by then it was too late. Having set the battle in motion in the alley, they now found that they had no escape from the warriors as the battle shifted around their observation point.

As suddenly as the battle had begun, it now stopped, all the creatures now coming to a standstill as the three fair warriors held their counterparts at sword point.

"Do you yield?"

The three distorted beings looked at each other, and finally one gave a brief nod of his head. As one, they knelt, heads bent forward. The two flanking warriors, almost in unison, raised their swords and quickly dispatched the two creatures that had been before them. The third warrior gazed at the one knelling before him.

"Why?"

With a sideways glance up at his judge, knowing that this would be his only chance to confess, he hissed only one word. "Power."

With a flash of steel, the blade descended on the bowed neck, and the head rolled away into the shadow.

Angel, Illyria and Spike had stood motionless through the bizarre confrontation as if rooted by magic to the ground where they stood. With the severing of the last head, they were released from their statue like state and looked around. Where before there had been two warring factions, there was now just a empty dirty alley. Gunn lay face down, arms and legs twisted at obscene angles as if with his death his attackers had tried to pose him as replicas of themselves.

Angel approached the three warriors who were cleaning the ichor from their swords.

"Why?" he asked.

The tallest of the three glanced up from his task.

"Why what?'

"Why did this happen? Where did the demons go? This was our fight."

The warrior regarded Angel for a few moments before answering. Indeed, the warrior thought to himself, this vessel had served well and deserved to know the truth.

"It was never your fight. It was always ours. You were our instruments here until the time was right for us to move. These three," he said, indicating the three rapidly decomposing bodies before him, "had taken it upon themselfs to corrupt our very way of life here in this plane. It has never been our intention to interfere with you humans. The fact that they did, and did so on other planes, has been a grave concern to us. Because of your short lifetimes, and the damage they have managed to inflict on this plane, we began the battle here. Although the battle will continue in other places, it is over here. You have your world back, and we will only visit now and then to be sure that others of our kind don't interfere again."

Angel frowned. "But why now? If it's your battle, then why did you need us? Our friends are dead."

"That is regrettable. But it was necessary. You truly served us well."

"How does this serve you? Again, our friends are dead and you're just spouting words like "necessary" without telling us the why."

"It was necessary for you friend Wesley to die and necessary for Lindsey to die. Both of their deaths were not in vain. Had they not died, the other deaths, and the death of these three would not have been possible. It was the blood of the mortals that bound us all in this battle. And it was their blood that made a victory here possible. Of you all, Wesley was the only one who knew what was to come, and he accepted his part in it."

"Well, I don't accept it." Snarled Angel.

"It is done." Replied the warrior, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the denial of the truth. "It could be no other way."

Angel stood looking at the three. They had finished their cleaning, and stood motionless as if waiting for a sign.

"Who are you? I have seen most demon races, and you don't fit any of them. Even some of the things that we fought here, I've never seen anything like them. Come on, some of them looked like trees, for gods sake."

The three looked at each other and exchanged a slight smile, face to face, as if amused by a child.

"You do know us." Replied one of the other warriors. "Or at least our names. In your world you view us as imaginary beings. We find that amusing."

"And irritating.", added one of the other warriors. This earned him a stern look from the tallest warrior. He ducked his head to avoid any further redress, but continued to smile as he polished his blade.

The tallest of the three warriors cocked his head in Illyria's direction. "We are known to her kind as well, although we came after."

"Sidhe." stated Illyria.

The tallest of the three warriors inclined his head. "Just so."

As Angel, Spike and Illyria stood looking on, the air around the three warriors shimmered and in their place stood three animals. The tallest now stood before them not as a man but as a white hart. The warrior on the right had vanished to be replace by a large white wolf, jaw dropped in a friendly dog like grim. And the third warrior a large white ram, horns curled over a broad back.

Without fanfare the three turned and bound toward the end of the alley. Before they reached the end, the air shifted and they disappear into a mist that dissipated as soon as they were gone.

A dawn breeze was stirring the trash in the alley, and the two vampires knew they had to get underground soon. Angel walked over and picked up Gunn. It was only fitting that they take him underground with them for the day. They could turn him over to someone for burial tomorrow, but for this day, they would mourn their friends in private.

Illyria hesitated, then followed the two vampires. There was no where else to go, and she knew of no one else in this world. Spike, hearing her footsteps, halted for a few minutes to let her catch up.

"So," he said to no one in particular, and was interrupted by Angel.

"Don't say it." Intoned Angel, with the air of a much put upon relative.

"So," began Spike again, undaunted as ever by Angel, "you mean to tell me we were beat up by a bunch of fairies?"

"Just wait till we get home." growled Angel. "Just wait."

Authors' note: Love it? Hate it? Please review.


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